I've had the urge to tidy today, a little Ernest who doesn't want to nap unless snuggled up with me has meant I haven't really got very far, but I did find these little felted wool heart decorations on my desk, and was reminded that I meant to give them away.I've added ribbons to hang them since these photos were taken, so you could hang them anywhere.Only one has the "baby" decorations on. Just leave me a comment, and I'll pick a winner after the weekend. x

There is a stillness at this time of year that I find unsettling and invigorating in equal measure.Last year, I was so desperate to hold on to 2009. I was so afraid of losing Florence's year, and although the turning of another year takes her further back in time, I'm not dreading 2011 quite as much as I did 2010.I think it might seem strange to many that I dreaded 2010 so much when i already knew I was pregnant again. And maybe it seems strange that I'm glad to leave 2010 behind when it was the year our beautiful Ernest was born. 2010 has been exhausting. Grieving one life, while growing another is probably the closest I've come to losing my mind. Follow that up with breastfeeding problems and hospital stays, and then just the general terror of mothering a newborn after a traumatic loss, not to mention trying to mother four growing and grieving older children; I think it's no wonder that these days I find myself walking a very fine line between grief and depression.I'm not alone I know, with feeling lost with my grief. I'm tired of myself,and am not at all surprised that maybe others are tired of me too.My grief has changed, I don't get flashbacks so often and so unexpectedly. the grief is burrowing deeper inside, less obvious to everyone else, but always there, always hurting.A relentless ache with no dignity.All this, unyet I'm so lucky, and don't think for one moment I don't realise how lucky I am.I'm typing this with Ernest nuzzled into my neck, sleeping on my shoulder. I don't expect him to cure my aching heart, but he's a joy all of his own, and so loved.

Thank you to everyone who has sent us cards and ornaments this year.I love it when I open a card to see Florence included in some way, and one of my friends managed to even make me chuckle with her card and ponderings on how to include Florence. (I think you know who you are, thank you, you made me smile. I know how you and yours think of Florence often.)

This gorgeous snow globe came from a very special friend, and this is staying up all year round. I give it a little shake every time I pass it and send a little "hello" off into the Universe. Love you Hev. x

This felted ornament was made by another blogger, Sad Kitty as part of the ornament swap organised by Jenny. I love it.This was such great project to take part in. I enjoyed making the ornament for my swapee, and almost forgot I was going to receive one too. A lovely way to connect with grieving parents around the world, and hopefully pass on a little hope between us all.

This lovely little dove came from another speciial friend, thank you Lisa. x

These hang together with the ornament we bought for Florence this year, a porcelain heart from this seller on Etsy. I also couldn't resist a few little pieces from her for the children's stockings too, check her out.

And of course the ornaments bought, and made, and gifted to us last year.India said soon, we'll have just Florence ornaments for Christmas.It goes without saying, (but I will) that we all wish we had more.

Tomorrow, we will take roses and a Christmas balloon to Florence's grave, and we will carry in our hearts all of the babies and families we know who are missing their precious children this Christmas and always.

***

And now for a winner! Using Random.org the chosen winner of the little pinafore is commenter number 6, Just Me. There are no contact details for you in your profile honey, so I'm really hoping you see this. email me jeanette dot archer at gmail dot com with your contact details and I'll get the dress off in the post after the holidays.

I think there are things I do like about Christmas.I like making decorations, and hanging them. I like making and choosing gifts for people I love, and I like being home with my family.

Our second Christmas without Florence. She would be 17 months old today. Maybe she'd have a few little curls at the nape of her neck, and maybe those curls would still have the hint of red I thought I saw when she was born. Would she have green eyes like me? We glimpsed a sliver of blue once, but her colouring was more like mine, so maybe by now they'd be green or hazel like Eden's.Maybe, I'd have picked out a little dress for her, and tights and shiney shoes...

The sobs choke me, out of nowhere, and then Ernest smiles and he's so irresistably squishable, and my heart aches and melts, the tears of joy and sorrow burn my cheeks.

There's a Florence shaped hole deep inside, and no amount of chocolate or mince pies can fill it, believe me, I've tried. (And that's a post for another day)

I don't much like gift wrapping. I always have these great ideas in my head, but generally end up with crinkly paper and huge globs of sticky tape.Then there's the whole waste thing....Yesterday someone posted this link on one of the forums I use, and I decided to give it a go.So quick and easy and effective, and most importantly I get these fat quarters of Shade Garden back, cos I used them to wrap Ernest's pressies.

Lookee over there in my side bar...scroll down a bit....there a free PDF pattern for my Flossie's Pinafore.

I designed this pattern a while back, initially for a book submission. That never came to anything, so I thought I'd simply share it here with you, my readers.I hope you like it.

I have had a good sewing pal test the pattern for me, but you know, sometimes even the best of us can miss things, so if you find any problems with the instructions or the pattern please let me know and I'll do my best to figure things out.

Please do add any piccies of your dresses to the flickr group, I'd love to see them.

Please don't use this pattern to make dresses to sell. this pattern was designed in memory of my beautiful Florence, and I'd be very hurt and upset if anyone took advantage of that.

Please do consider making a charitable donation to your local NICU, SCBU, or children's hospice if you do use the pattern.

And finally, just for those who don't sew, I've got one Pinafore to give away. This is a size 12-18mths, and could be yours, just leave a comment, and I'll choose a winner on Christmas Eve. (sorry, not one for the boys, but I'll work on something for the New Year.)

I've had a lot of practice answering the dreaded "How many children?" question .Woody hasn't had the practice I've had. I could see the word hovering for a second or two on his lips, and then the sadness as he said "five"It's just polite dinner conversation, a little light teasing about our family size, all well intentioned. Everyone knows about Florence, but no one mentions her.The room gets a little spinney, Woody and I exchange glances, that perhaps no one else sees.

Ernest is mostly worn, but sometimes we use the pram. Winter is well and truly here, and not relishing the idea of spending £85 on the buggy snuggle that fits the Xplory, and not having the time to sew something from scratch, my lovely friend (and thankfully hoarder) Mary sent me over a gorgeous little warm baby nest that fitted perfectly. Only problem was the colour didn't quite work with the purple of the pram. (guess who forgot to take before pics.)So, using an inexpensive fleece blanket I'd bought from Ikea, initially intending to use it to make India a hoody, I re covered the baby nest and we now have a lovely bright buggy snuggle.There is still enough fabric left for India's hoody,but she's reluctant to wear anything that matches the pram...oops!

Comment number 14, and excluding deleted comments and comments asked to be ignored that means Angela it's you!

I'm moved to tears once again by everyone who commented and want you all to know that I've clicked through where possible to all of your stories and you and all your sweet babies are in my thoughts this Christmas.

I have four little runners up ornaments I'd like to give away too, and those go to:

Today is the first day of 25 Days Of Giveaways, and I'm honoured to be taking part.

My give away is this ornament made especially for a babylost family. The heart is recycled from a felted sweater, on one side is a little heart made up from brightly coloured buttons, and on the other a pocket containing a little scroll for you to write your message of love to your baby or babies.

You can hang this on your Christmas tree or really anywhere in your home, either just for Christmas or year round.

This give away is open to all babyloss parents, all around the world. Just say hello in the comments and I'll use a random number generator to pick a winner tomorrow.

Don't forget to check out Tina's blog too, she's got an Amazing give away.Click on the link below, or the one over there in my side bar.

It's cold, and set to get colder. The light this morning was blue, the sky full of soft whipped cold blue clouds. The sun shone a little, and when that cold golden sunshine kisses my face between the buildings on my walk home, I whisper "hello darling", but I know it's not really her.

...I get a little bit tired of making excuses for people. I know that the death of a baby is something most people find difficult to talk about, that often people say the wrong thing without meaning to, that perhaps I'm a little over sensitive. I know that most people are well intentioned, and I often give them the benefit of the doubt, but sometimes I just want slap some people very hard.

A while ago when I was still pregnant with Ernest a neighbour and mother of a child in Sid's class at school asked me if I was expecting my third child. (I had Angus and Sid with me at the time) I said simply that no, this was my sixth child. She then went on to make all sorts of exclamations about having six children, and I scurried away without explaining further.

Since then, I have tried to avoid this woman. She seems perfectly nice,very attractive, very confident woman. I just didn't want to have *that* conversation with her.

Today we wound up walking to school together, and making polite conversation.She asked how Ernest was and commented on how I seemed to have been pregnant forever.Then she asked how old all of my children were, and I thought I may as well get this out of the way,listing my children and their ages,until I came to Florence, and I said she would be 15 months, but she died.She looked puzzled, glanced at Ernest, processed what I'd just said and asked me,"So did you actually give birth?"

I'm sorry but WTF???

I just replied, yes, she was six hours old when she died.

That was it then, conversation over.I'm resisting the urge right now to knock on her front door and show her a photo of my 9lbs 3oz daughter who was born, a real person, my child.There was blood and amniotic fluid and meconium, and a warm wet baby I held in my arms. A baby I held while she took her last breaths, my child who is buried in the ground, and who was real, of course I gave birth!

Maybe I'm being unfair, maybe I am. Really though, would it have hurt her to just say "I'm sorry for your loss" ?

And while we are on the subject, the co worker who told Woody that we needed to get a dog to teach our children about death, needs to think a bit more before opening his mouth.

Ernest gives me, his Daddy, the other children, infact everyone really big big smiles, but as soon as I get the camera out, he stops, it took about three hundred million attempts just to catch this flicker of a smile!

I actually became re aquainted with my sewing machine yesterday! Oh I do miss her, but I guess cuddling Ernest is more fun.I ran up three pairs of wool longies from some of Grandads old sweaters.Of course a thirty minute job took more like three hours with pumping and feeding and cuddling breaks, but they are done. (and yes clearly I had no time to steam the creases out of the blue pair!)

1 | Do you believe you can communicate with people in the afterlife, or they with you? Do you believe you can do this with your child?

The short answer is no.I sometimes watch programmes on tv like Psychic Sally and I cringe. I just can't really believe there is a whole spirit world out there filled with dead people all wanting to communicate with the living.I did visit a psychic once, years ago, she was pretty good at working out my life, and told me my Dad was there in the room. I remember it feeling rather comforting, but that was then...I also attended a psychic night a few years back, and this dreadful man with truly dodgy hair claimed he was communicating with the dead baby of the woman sat in front of me and my friends. I remember vividly her shoulders shaking as she sobbed...

I do keep a diary addressed to Florence, and I do sometimes speak to her, but I'm very well aware that's all done for my benefit. I know she can't hear me.

2 | Do you believe in ghosts? Has this changed since the loss of your child(ren)?

No

3 | Have your feelings changed about Halloween? How do you respond to Halloween humor such as zombie and ghost costumes or macabre gravestones as decorations?

Halloween isn't a huge holiday here in the UK, though it is bigger now than it was when I was a child.For me, Halloween is rather like a lot of holidays, in that I feel slighly uneasy celebrating something I really know little about, so I half heartedly go along with it, and ultimately feel dissapointed.We do carve pumpkins, and this year like last year we took a pumpkin and some halloween decorations the children made to Florence's grave. I think that's just our way of including her in normal family stuff.I did briefly ponder on the theory of the veil between this world and the next over last weekend, but I just can't feel Florence with me that way.

Costumes don't bother me, though I must admit to giving too much thought to the whole zombie thing lately, I mean how do dead babies fit in there?

4 | Does your religious or cultural background have a day or holiday where the focus is honoring the dead? How do you use this experience to honor your own child(ren)?

No, but sometimes I wish there was. I'm an atheist, and probably very English and rather embarrassed by public rituals.

I guess the only cultural day to remember the dead is Remembrance Day and that's to remember those killed in war.

5 | Do you ever reach outside of your spiritual/religious framework for comfort from other practices/religions?

I'm very interested in how other people remember/honour their dead. My friend told me how in Japan each family has an alter for their dead relatives and they offer bowls of rice to them. (I hope I've got that right)I thought that was rather lovely.

6 | Is there a season or holiday, other than your child(ren)’s birthday, that inspires you to perform a ritual in memory of your child(ren)?

Not really. We include Florence in every aspect of family life, so during holidays like Christmas we will make or buy decorations for her, and last year we lit paper lanterns for her too, so maybe we do....

7 | Is there a ritual you perform everyday? Weekly? Monthly? Yearly?

Every morning after I'm dressed I put on my necklace with Florence's pictures. I don't wear any other necklaces now. All day I'm aware of her there next to my heart. I tuck her away from Ernest's prying hands, and each evening when I light Florence's candle I take off my necklace and place it next to the candle and her photograph on the shelf at the end of my bed.I fall asleep with the candle burning and wake briefly when Woody comes to bed and snuffs out the candle, comforted by the smell of warm wax.

Every week we go to the cemetery together. We take roses and candles and we tidy Florence's grave.

8 | Do you perform any public rituals (in real life or online) on October 15? How do your friends, family, or community respond to your acknowledgment of loss?

I do light candles on October 15th, and I think I would like to do someting more, I just haven't figured out what that is yet.I know many of my friends light candles then too, but I haven't discussed it with my family.

Ernest saw the cranial osteopath for the last time today. His high palate has spread lots since our first appointment, and she thinks that now his tongue is free it'll spread more.So, it's done,all physical barriers to breastfeeding removed, (as much as they can be). There is a passage in Oliver James last book, "How Not To F*** Them Up", that says something like "If you've moved heaven and earth to breastfeed, and still not managed it, then there is no point despairing"...I can't write the exact quote because I've loaned the book to a friend.I do despair. Breastfeeding to me is so very much more than getting milk into my baby. Breastfeeding is how I've mothered my children,it's a deep instinct. Not breastfeeding hurts me, probably more than many people could ever understand.I'm cut off from my main mothering tool.But hey! Ernest is alive and here, and beautiful and growing fat on my milk. Losing Florence has taught me that things could be so much worse.I'm not giving up, I can't. There's no time limit here, I'll keep on offering my breast, and maybe just maybe.Right now though, the bottles are winning, and this Mama who wouldn't even have dolls bottles in the house, now owns more bottles and feeding paraphernalia than she ever thought possible.

Today I plan to change my handbag, to switch everything over to my winter handbag. I love bags, I have lots. For years and years I never owned a handbag,just carried everything in the pockets of my battered old biker jacket. So I'm making up for it now, much like I am with shoes after years and years of only wearing DM's or biker boots, ( yes with *everything* ! )

My winter handbag this year is very special, it's one I admired some time ago when shopping with a friend from my sewing group. This year I was gobsmacked to receive it for my birthday from my mystery "Birthday Spoiler"...a secret birthday buying buddy also from my sewing group.

I'm a pretty organised person, and because I do like to change my bags fairly often, I keep all my handbag essentials in a zippered inner bag that I can easily switch from bag to bag.Inside that bag is:

Photos of Florence in an envelope.My chequebook and penTwo notebooks and two further pensTissuesRescue RemedyEmergency cloth mama padIbuprofenA small plastic sandwich bagLip balmTiny pot of hand cream

I'll add my keys, phone, purse, and away we go!

Of course other items will make their way into my bag, sweet wrappers, baby socks, odd bit of change...

I wish I could unravel and begin to put words, meaning to the feelings I've had since Ernest has arrived. I can't.I'm not sure there are words to describe how it feels to have him here and not to have Florence.It's either very complicated or so simple I can't get it.I could pluck words out of the air,words like guilt, joy, fear...but they just don't work,they only describe tiny fractions.I look deeply into his eyes, his open blue blue eyes, and I love him for him,and I miss her for her, and every day is a reminder of everything she could never be.Sometimes it feels like I lose more of her each day I notice more of him.Sometimes I have to conjure up even the horror of her last hours, or moments and beyond just to connect, I hope that's normal. (I'm not sure it is.)

We are going to the sea side this weekend.I hope it will give us all time to take a deep breath and just be. I wish she was coming too.

I'm not sure about this question. I think Woody would say it's thinking too much, but I really can't help that can I? How do you stop thinking?There have been times when I've thought it'd be nice not to overthink every little detail of my life, and I do try very very hard to stay in the moment, which is a real challenge for me.I think sometimes I do manage it.

Other than the thinking stuff,I guess my worst habit really has to be eating too much. I'm a total comfort eater, more so since Florence was born.(You know I still struggle with which word to use here, born or died? It's too harsh to write died all the time,but that would really be the right word.)I make excuses for my greed, I'm sad,apparently eating lowers cortisol levels,I don't drink anymore (far too afraid of alcohol and it's affects since Florence..),I'm (attempting) breastfeeding...The truth is,I'm overweight,and it doesn't feel good, and I should just get a grip.

My regular week, not half term like this week is generally not so interesting.

Mondays to Fridays I'm up at 6am,and getting the big four off to school.The girls get the school bus, and I walk the boys to school.While the big four are all at school Ernest and I will either chill at home, or visit friends, or more often have friends visit us due to my phobia of driving.We did have mum and baby yoga once a week, but I couldn't cope emotionally with the other mums and baby's, so we gave up.We go to LLL meetings once a month, and I co run a babywearing group once a month too.Otherwise our days are pretty cocooned I guess.I have to collect the boys from school at 3pm, and the girls get home around 4pm.Woody gets home at 5pm.

Saturdays Eden generally comes bouncing into our room at 7am dressed for her gymnastics class which doesn't start until 4.30pm! I like to take Saturdays a bit slower, and usually potter about in my pj's listening to radio four, and catch up on a little housework. Saturdays used to be my work day when I was still running my business.Saturday evenings we always have homemade pizza. Woody makes the best pizza. Sometimes we have a movie night with the children, but more often than not these days I'm asleep by 8pm!

Sundays we usually go to the cemetery, and everything else fits around that. There's usually lots of laundry to sort out ready for the coming week, and we might potter around the garden or perhaps go for a walk either to Alderley Edge,Styal Mill or somewhere similar.

I woke up this morning at 6.40am, and wondered why the alarm hadn't gone off. It's half term here so I didn't have to be up this morning, but Woody did. He works between two offices at the moment, one in Halifax, and one in Chester. Today he had to be in Halifax, so really needs to leave by 7am to miss the worst of the traffic.Woody got up, Ernest was still sleeping. I seem to have a baby that sleeps through! He'd been sleeping since midnight,and even me getting up at 4am to pump hadn't woken him.I wondered if I should pump again before Ernest woke, or wait. I decided to pump first.Ernest woke shortly after, and I held him against my breast as I bottle fed him some EBM, and had a little cry.I heard Woody coming up the stairs and wiped my tears. He'd made me toast and tea. In fact it was toasted homemade brioche...delicious!Then Woody had to go, he kissed me goodbye.Soon enough Eden joined Ernest and I for a morning cuddle.

I briefly checked my emails while Eden had a little play with Ernest, and after a nappy change we headed downstairs.

The children had breakfast, and Ernest watched them from his pushchair while I whizzed around sorting laundry and tidying up.(I accidentally left the sink running hot water, and had bubbles overflowing onto the work surfaces, but that's really not unusual.)

Ernest and I then made our way back upstairs for a cuddle and another feed which sent him off to sleep, and I jumped in the shower while he napped on my bed. I even managed to pluck my eyebrows and put on some make up before he woke up!

Time again for another feed,and then Angus came up to have a play with Ernest while I took photographs of some fabrics I'd had printed over the summer.Something I've not had time to do since they arrived.

I managed to upload the photos to flickr and even write a blog post and pump again while India cuddled and played with Ernest, but then he needed another nappy change and a nap.So I cuddled him to sleep.

While Ernest napped I had a quick cuppa and a few chocolate chip biscuits. I also washed up some bottles and pump flanges,and put them in the steriliser.I noticed the slightly sore boob I woke up with was hurting quite a bit more.

I made lunch quickly, beans on toast and soup for those not wanting beans. Ate mine super quick knowing that Ernest would need me pretty soon for a feed.

India and Eden cleaned up after lunch, and loaded the dishwasher, while I dressed Ernest.

I pumped again quickly before heading out with all the children to catch the bus to a friends house for a play date.Catching the bus with five children is always interesting, if only to see the expressions on the other passengers faces! I can't quite believe it costs nearly £5 to travel a mile and a half.On the bus I started to feel a little fluey, and realised the sore boob was well and truly a blocked milk duct.Luckily when we arrived at our friends house she had some ibuprofen for me to take.The children, all eleven of them had a great time playing, my friend lives in her church which is huge with an equally huge garden, so lots of room for the children.

Woody picked us up at around 5pm,and we drove to the cemetery. Dusk is lovely there, the autumn evening light is golden,and the yellow and pink roses we bought for Florence glowed.We left after lighting her candles, knowing they'd burn for several hours.

We got caught in traffic on the way home, and I started to feel unwell again, desperate to get home and pump.

When we arrived home,I ran indoors and up the stairs,hastily washed my hands,lit Florence's candle,switched on the evening news (local) and pumped for a full twenty minutes.

I live in a large town just outside Manchester in the North West of England. I moved here in 1989 to go to college, and apart from a brief period in 1998 when we lived in the Netherlands,this has been home.I was born in Birmingham, and grew up in a stiffling new town on the outskirts of Birmingham.Moving up north felt like home, and I'm now very much a northerner...with a funny accent if you ask Woody or my children!I'm lucky to live in a reasonably sized Edwardian house, on a pretty street, with (mostly) good neighbours.The train station is just a couple of minutes walk away,and fifteen minutes in one direction and I'm in the hstle and bustle of Manchester, while fifteen minutes in the other direction is Buxton, and the Peak District.Not that I visit either that often, but I like knowing that I can.I think a good bakery,a good pub, and a bigger garden (plus if I'm being greedy, another bedroom and a studio for me)and this would be my perfect place to live.

OK, these two sprang immediately to mind, oldies but goodies, and guaranteed to make me laugh, but if I'm feeling fragile could also make me cry, so be warned, both videos feature babies, so if you don't feel strong enough today, come back tomorrow.

I've fallen behind with the thirty posts in thirty days project, but with good reason. We've had a whirlwind week after I managed to track down a doctor who agreed to see Ernest and look at his tongue and lip tie.The short story is that after a conversation with a lactation consultant out of my area (herself chased up by my lovely LLL friend, Fiona), I googled this doctor and decided to take a chance and email him.To my surprise his secretary phoned me the very next morning and we went to see him on Wednesday afternoon. Ernest was then admitted to the Royal Manchester Childrens Hospital..with a lot of tears and panicking from me, (hospitals just do that to me now.)We were allowed home for the evening,and at that point I really wasn't sure we'd return in the morning, but after much soul searching and conversations with two other wonderful LLL friends we decided to go ahead.Ernest had his posterior tongue tie and lip tie cut under a general anaesthetic at 9am, and we were home by 1pm.There is a very obvious difference in his mouth, he can actually open it properly for the first time! Obviously we still have a way to go, bottle feeding has taken it's toll, and Ernest has to re learn how to use his new free tongue, but it's such a relief to know he no longer has the restrictions these ties had on him.Fingers crossed that this is the breakthrough we needed.

****

Now to catch up!

Day 20 - a hobby of yours and how it changed since your loss.

It's got to be sewing. I'm passionate about sewing. I love lots of crafts, but sewing is the one that gives me the most satisfation, and the reason I started this blog in the first place.I don't really think much has changed there, obviously my blog has changed, but my hobby hasn't.In the first days after Florence died, I sewed. I made her a gown to be buried in. I posted about it here, and it was featured on Still Life 365.Sewing calms me,I love the hum of my sewing machine, and the warm cotton smell from the iron.

Day 21 - a recipe.

Urmmm, well I'm not really much of a cook. I'm ok,but I don't really enjoy cooking. Woody is the cook in our house, and he's good too, so he cooks almost every day, and I just eat.One recipe I do like though, because it's super quick and super healthy is what our family calls Green Soup.

Chop and fry the onion in a little oil until it's soft.Grate the courgettes and add to the onions, fry gently for a minute or twoAdd the grated nutmeg and the stock.Throw in the peas and spinach and top up with boiled water.Simmer gently for about 20 minutes, blend and add salt and pepper to taste.

Day 22 - a website that has been meaningful since your loss.

The site that springs immediately to mind is Glow In The Woods. I remember finding it and being so relieved to be somewhere so warm and comfortable, somewhere I could safely say what was really on my mind, somewhere that didn't think I was an "angel mummy".

Without Glow, my pregnancy after loss would have been even harder, going there and talking to other babylost,but pregnant again Mamas was so important to me. There are things you just can't say on regular pregnancy forums, or to regular pregnant Mamas.

Hmmm, well if you'd asked me 15 months ago, I might have said birhing my babies....As it is,I think maybe I have a talent for appearing calm and collected,when actually beneath the surface I'm treading water frantically. Then again, maybe those reading who know me well would say differently.

Recently I've been reading and re reading every book I can get my hands on about breastfeeding, anything to give me a clue how to help Ernest latch. One of those books was Ina May's Guide To Breastfeeding loaned to me by a friend particularly because of a mention of a baby finally latching at four months old. That story did give me hope,but reading on, I found myself in tears reading about Ina May's community (The Farm) and how mothers support one another in a practical way to breastfeed.

I longed for that closeness, for that level of support.

Well, today I finally realised, I may not live in a community like The Farm, but I do have the next best thing, tremendous support. I have friends locally chasing up anyone they think might be able to help me, I have online friends just a click away,kind people I've only met once sending me information, and even lovely people sending me chocolate to get me through the pumping sessions. (thank you, you know who you are!)

Woody and I first met in 1991, he was going out with a friend of mine from college. I think about a year after our first meeting we finally got together after a false start where I stood him up. (And the friend from college gave him my number, and a warning to treat me nicely!)Twelve ish years, three children and a bump later we decided to get married.

I love other peoples weddings, but I've never been one of those women who dreamed of the big white dress, so we decided to keep it very low key. We told a few people (that might've been hurt otherwise) that we planned to get married quietly. We didn't even tell the children until the night before, when I produced two pretty dresses and a little velvet suit and told them about the wedding...to which Eden replied "Who are you marrying Mummy?" !!!

My best friend, Heather and her (now) husband were our witnesses.I made my own dress, which I only finished hemming the morning of the wedding, a maternity wrap dress.

The wedding took place at the Town Hall, and afterwards we went to a little local pub and had cheese pie and chips.